


Love Pollen No. 9

by SouthernChickie



Category: Stargate SG-1
Genre: Humor, Love Potion/Spell
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-02
Updated: 2018-06-21
Packaged: 2019-05-01 09:52:35
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 13
Words: 14,994
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14517915
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SouthernChickie/pseuds/SouthernChickie
Summary: "Let me get this straight," General Landry started. "Multiple women have been flirting with you today, and your logical explanation is that something is terribly wrong with you." Daniel's not a proud man, he knows when something's not quite right.





	1. Chapter 1

The iris opened, and the defense team stood alert. SG-1's IDC had come through, but after eight years operation, the SGC did not take simple things like identification codes for granted. Luckily, four figures emerged from the event horizon and it seemed P4X-966 had been uneventful for the flagship team, sending them home with nothing more than minor sunburns. The beautiful fields and natural gardens of '966 had concealed nothing out of the ordinary. The occasional cut stems and disturbed soil showed some sort of activity, but there was no evidence of a civilization on the planet. It was as if it were nothing more than a planet-sized walking garden. SG-1 helped Sam take soil and flora samples before dialing the gate and heading back home.

"Stop it," Daniel barked irritably as Mitchell teased a flower in his direction, triggering a violent sneeze from the archeologist. Daniel shoved him away.

"79," Mitchell said happily, undeterred. He held a bouquet of large purple flowers and had a menacing gleam in his eye as Daniel sneezed again. "80!"

Sam stepped between Mitchell and Daniel, giving Daniel room to get a few paces away. She glared at Mitchell, he'd been playing his stupid sneezing game as soon as Daniel's allergies had been triggered on the planet. As soon as their debrief was done she was planning on letting Mitchell know exactly what she thought about his bullying.

"General," Daniel called to Landry in the control room. "May I have permission to kill Mitchell?" He had a thick, congested accent.

"What's the matter, Jackson? Run out of Kleenex?" Mitchell asked, putting his face in his bouquet and inhaling with a content sigh. Just watching someone breathe in the pollen made Daniel sneeze. "81!"

"Anyone care to explain?" Landry asked Sam and Teal'c.

"Colonel Mitchell is attempting to make Daniel Jackson sneeze one hundred times," Teal'c told him. Teal'c had long ago come to the conclusion that he was never going to understand Tau'ri rituals. Hazing, as he had come to understand it, was merely an exercise in passive aggressively establishing dominance within a social group. It was strange to observe. If in fact, Mitchell was trying to ensure his position as leader, Jolma'sheku was a much more practical way to achieve his goal.

"About getting to –achoo!- kill him?" Daniel asked Landry as Mitchell shook the bouquet at him again.

"Face it, Jackson," Mitchell teased him. "Even under the best of circumstances, you wouldn't be able to take me. Also, 82."

All eyes were on SG-1. It was a well-known fact that Dr. Jackson's fighting skills had improved drastically over the years, but he was still no match for a fully trained Air Force Colonel. Not that being the underdog had ever stopped him from trying. And, as many SGC personnel had seen with their own eyes, in the right mood he was a force to be reckoned with. But eyes watering, nose running, and breathing hampered he wouldn't stand a chance. He knew it, too.

"General," Daniel asked. "May I have permission to pay someone to kill Mitchell for me?" He did his best to hold back the sneeze he felt coming on.

"Oh, that's not fair. C'mon now." Mitchell took a step forward and Daniel took a step back. "Don't hold it in. Just let it out. You'll feel so much better. It's a big one, I can tell."

"Cam," Sam signed, barely looking up from the samples she was handing off to the ecology team. "Leave the poor guy alone."

"No playing favorites," Mitchell told her.

And then it came; five rapid fire sneezes that had Daniel doubled over.

"87!"

"Doctor?" Landry got his attention, breaking up the shoving match that had broken out between the two. He had stopped trying to reign in SG-1, there was no point. What the team went through on a daily basis could burn out the most professional of servicemen. Fluff missions like 966 gave them a break and time to blow off some steam. The team was made up of personnel well known for forgetting to take their leave. A mission like 966 was a quiet way of giving them a little break. "Permission granted. Now go do whatever you have to do to get that under control."

"Thank you, sir." Another sneeze.

"88! You're so close!"

"I may just-"

"92!"

"-go home," he finished after another multi-sneeze fit.

"Whatever you need to do, Doctor," Landry assured him.

Daniel nodded and headed to the locker room to change. "$500 to whoever brings me his head; spread the word!"

. . . . . . . . . . . . .

"Sam, it was a joke," Mitchell insisted the next day. Daniel had ended up going home, the allergy attack so bad he'd convinced Dr. Lam to give him the 'good stuff' by just walking into her office.

"You were the only one who thought it was funny," Sam told him flatly, as they navigated the halls of the SGC, Sam on her way to her lab, Mitchell on the way to the gym. "You were torturing him."

"I was making the man sneeze."

"Incessantly."

"Hilariously."

Sam didn't respond, just stared coldly ahead.

"Look, I know he's got that doe eyed cutie pie thing going for him that you girls seem to love so much, but Jackson has a sense of humor, you cannot honestly tell me that he's so sensitive that a harmless prank really bothered him."

Sam grunted in disapproval. "You made him so sick he had to go home. That's not harmless."

"The man was exaggerating to get sympathy points. It's the natural defense mechanism of the nerd."

Sam stopped walking. "Did you just call Daniel a nerd?"

"Don't go taking that out of context, Sam," Mitchell told her. Was it just him or was Sam being weirdly protective today?

"Now you're just being mean," she said, disgusted. "What is wrong with you?"

"You call him a nerd all the time. And a spaz, a dork, and idiot, a klutz…" he listed off.

"To his face when he's in a good mood," Sam pointed out. "He's not even here to defend himself. Cam, this isn't like you. I have to say I am not a fan."

"Look, I'll apologize to him. Will that make this better?"

"If you actually mean it."

"I honestly did not think I was being mean," Mitchell said as sincerely as he could. "I will find him, and I will apologize."

"His office is that way," Sam gestured when he didn't move.

"Right. Project: Admit I was a jerk is underway."


	2. Chapter 2

Merlin is mythical figure head that follows the Welsh folklore tradition of…

"Whoa!"

Daniel cut off reading, mid-sentence, as he slammed into something.

Someone.

"I am so sorry," Daniel hastily apologized. One minute he was reading and enjoying his morning coffee- high off the buzz that that cute barista, Chelsea, at his favorite coffee shop had given him his coffee and bagel for free- and the next minute his book and coffee were gone, and Dr. Lam was sitting on the floor in the middle of what he thought was an empty hallway surrounded by coffee and papers.

"My fault," she assured him with a wry smile, moving to gather her scattered files. "I was warned to steer clear of you when you have a book in your hands. It's one of the first things they told me."

"Am I that infamous?" he asked, kneeling to help her.

"There's a club," she teased him.

"The local chapter of Daniel-ran-me-over-in-the-hall-because-he-was-reading-instead-of-looking-where-he-was-going," he nodded knowingly.

She laughed. "The local chapter?"

"Sure, it's an international club. New York, Chicago, LA, Vancouver, Rio, Cairo, Cardiff, and now apparently Colorado Springs. It's only a matter of time before the club starts going galactic." He smiled as her hand lingered on his longer than needed to take a file from him.

She laughed again. Was she flirting with him?

"To be fair," he continued at a flustered ramble. "There is also an I-ran-Daniel-over-in-the-hall-because-he-was-reading-instead-of-looking-where-he-was-going club, so it's not always my fault."

"I'm sensing a theme, though."

"You'd think I'd get better at reading and walking at the same time."

"Or learn to stop doing it." She reached up and took his glasses, pretending to clean the lenses. "You look different without your glasses on," she said quietly, with a suggestive grin.

Oh, gods, she was flirting.

"You look different without my glasses on, too," he said, lamely. What was happening? Why couldn't he stop talking? Why would he say something so stupid?

"Oh?" she asked, graciously giving him a second chance.

Say something cool, Daniel begged himself. "Just, slightly out of focus." He felt it coming but couldn't stop it. That nervous smile where his whole face wrinkled up and he looked like an idiot. "Little blurry. I'm nearsighted."

She leaned closer. "Better?" she asked.

He swallowed and nodded. Why?

Why?

Why had he noticed her flirting? He was doing so well. He was being funny and charming and the second he realized what was happening he went into hopeless, rambling dork mode. Get yourself together, Danny!

She reached up and ran her fingers through his hair. A shiver ran down his spine and he promptly switched to silent dork mode, frozen in place, squatting in the middle of the hallway in a pool of cold coffee and paper.

"Did you do something to your hair?" she asked.

Oh, sure, now you shut up. Say something, you idiot!

Daniel shook his head and made some sort of moaning grunt noise.

"I like it," she leaned closer still.

Don't be a dork, don't be a dork, don't be a dork. 

Daniel allowed himself to lean a bit forward, praying he didn't topple them both over in a fantastic display of uncoordinated nerd skills, he was due a huge embarrassment.

"Jackson!" a voice broke into the world previously only occupied by Daniel and Dr. Lam.

Mitchell stood at the end of the hallway watching them.

"Just the man I was looking for." He approached them and helped gather the rest of the files. "You mowin' down people in the hall again?" He accused Dr. Lam, chuckling at his own joke.

"You know me," she said with a tight-lipped smile, irritated at the interruption.

Daniel still hadn't moved. He wasn't sure if he was annoyed with Mitchell for interrupting what could have possibly been successful flirting, or grateful to be saved from the humiliation of the inevitable crash and burn.

Dr. Lam maneuvered so Daniel had to give her a hand up.

"I'm… sorry," he apologized lamely as they stood.

"It's alright." She brushed imaginary something off his shirt, her hand lingering on his chest. "Come see me if those allergies start acting up again."

Daniel's heart started racing and he tried to come up with a good reply.

Something witty.

Something charming.

Something.

Anything.

Oh, gods, not again.

Speak, Danny!

"I'm sure I'll be fine," he assured her.

Idiot. Idiot. Idiot. Idiot!

"You know where I am." Undeterred, and weirdly, still seemingly into his clumsy flirting, Dr. Lam smirked suggestively at Daniel, completely ignoring Mitchell before leaving.

"What. Was. That?" Mitchell laughed as soon as Dr. Lam was out of ear shot. "You dog!" He slapped Daniel on the back proudly.

"What? Dog? No. Me?" Daniel stared down the hall after her. "I don't even know what just happened."

"What happened was, despite your every attempt to out dork yourself- and seriously, you were swinging for the fences on that one-, she left the door wide open for you to make your move."

"I don't have any moves," he insisted.

"Well, you did something right."

"I was going to kiss her." Daniel seemed completely baffled by the idea. "She was going to let me. Why would I do that? Why would she let me? What was I thinking?"

"She's cute and into you, why does it matter?"

"Were you not watching? Did you not hear me? I made a fool of myself."

"She seemed to like it."

Daniel sighed and rubbed his eyes. Confused, he pat down his pockets before realizing: "She has my glasses." He glanced around the floor. "And my book."

"Classic move," Mitchell said approvingly.

Daniel stared at him, confused.

"Now you have to go see her," Mitchell explained. "Bless your little nerd heart; you're panicking, aren't you?"

Daniel nodded.

"You want me to get 'em for you, don't you?"

"At least come with me; keep me from being a complete ass."

"Trust me, Jackson. What she has in mind, you don't want me there for."

"Wha-What do you think she has in mind?"

Mitchell laughed, putting an arm around Daniel's shoulders and guiding him away from the infirmary. "Man, you are hopeless."

"I've known that for years," Daniel sighed again, defeated. For someone having such a good day he sure had found a way to ruin it in a hurry. "You were looking for me?" he changed the subject.

"Yes. I am sorry for giving you such a hard time yesterday."

Daniel looked at him suspiciously. "You just want me to call off the hit."

"No, that's not what this is."

"Sam put you up to this."

"Bingo."

"I'll call off Sam," Daniel promised. "But the hit stays."

"I accept your terms."

They shook on it and went their separate ways.


	3. Chapter 3

BBQ, the smell hit Mitchell as soon as the elevator opened. With a little spring in his step, he made his way to the Mess to meet up with the team. Today was a good day.

"Excuse me." Mitchell side stepped as one of the line cooks made her way past, it was a small doorway, so he guided her through full of Southern Gentlemanly charm. "That brisket?" he asked, straining to get a look at the food on the line around the others who had beaten him to it.

"Yessir," she answered.

"Good. Make sure there's some burnt ends up there for me."

"Of course, Colonel," She smiled, then worked her way to her place behind the counter.

When he finally made it to the food, there was a generous portion of beef waiting for him with several burnt ends reserved.

"There is a special place in heaven for people like you," Mitchell told the line cook as she handed the plate to him. Man, it smelled good.

"Let me know if you want seconds," she said conspiringly.

"Special place." Oh, yes. Today was a good day.

Teal'c and Daniel were seated at the team's usual table. Teal'c had half a cow's worth of beef piled on his plate and was already eating from Daniel's. Daniel was picking at his potato salad, scribbling notes and reading.

"See you got your glasses back," Mitchell observed.

"No thanks to you," Daniel mumbled still making notes. "Luckily there was some sort of accident in engineering, so I could run before I fell flat on my face." He caught Teal'c stealing his brisket out of the corner of his eye and slapped his friend's hand away. Without missing a beat, Teal'c innocently moved back to his own plate.

"Poor baby," Mitchell drawled, dousing his food in Tabasco. "What do you guys think of that brown eyed girl slinging the slope today?"

Teal'c turned around to look. "She is quite attractive."

"You mean Monique? She's nice," Daniel said going back to his book.

"I think she likes me," Mitchell bragged.

"Is that so?" Teal'c asked, probing for more, sneaking more of Daniel's brisket. Daniel never finished his plate as it was, no harm no foul.

"Just a feeling," Mitchell admitted. "She gave me that look, you know?"

"I do not."

"Jaffa women have got to have that look. The one that says, 'I think you're cute' or 'Why don't you and me'…."

"Okay," Daniel cut him off. "We get the picture."

"What do you boys think?" Mitchell asked.

"You've seen how good I am at that stuff." Daniel tried to move his tray out of Teal'c's reach, but the table was too small.

"I believe you should inquire as to her plans for the weekend," Teal'c encouraged Mitchell. "Perhaps she wishes to mate."

"That's what I'm saying," Mitchell grinned.

"Are you two on testosterone supplements or something?" Daniel demanded. "What is wrong with you?"

"Jackson, it's just a little boy talk," Mitchell defended.

"You're usually the first one to bust the other guys for talking like that," he pointed out. "It's one of the few things I like about you."

"Don't get your boxers in a bunch," Mitchell dismissed him.

Daniel rolled his eyes. "Just knock it off."

"Why would the state of Daniel Jackson's underwear cause him to take offense to our conversation?" Teal'c asked.

Before the boy talk could continue, Sam arrived taking her place across from Daniel and next to Teal'c.

"What's going on?" she asked suspiciously, their conversation had cut off as soon as she arrived. Usually, as soon as someone arrived they were immediately drafted into whatever debate had been started. Conversations never ended abruptly, they knew too much about each other to be shy about topics, no matter how personal.

"They're just being idiots," Daniel looked at her tray. "Got enough cake there?"

She smiled and put the larger of the two pieces she had on her tray in front of him. "This one's for you."

"What for?"

"Just cause." She shrugged.

"Sound logic; I like it." He grabbed his fork and abandoned his potato salad for chocolate cake.

"How come he gets cake?" Mitchell protested.

"Cause she likes me more than she likes you," Daniel answered with no hint of sarcasm.

"Which reminds me…" Mitchell looked meaningfully at Daniel, who frowned in confusion. "Didn't you want to tell Sam something?" He nudged him with his elbow. "About earlier."

"Oh!" Daniel caught on and cleared his throat. "Gee, Mitchell, thank you for apologizing this morning. I feel so much better now," he said in the stilted cadence of a public access actor.

Sam smothered a giggle. Daniel went back to his cake, smirking, and Mitchell stabbed at his brisket.

/i/Damn Jackson, freaking smart-ass./i/ He had all the lady skills of a mangy dog and still managed to make Mitchell out to be the fool. Every woman on base fell for his bumbling archaeologist routine. That's probably why he got so upset about Monique. He couldn't stand the idea that someone preferred Mitchell over him.

/i/Arrogant bastard wants every lady on the base for himself. Thinks he owns the damn place. That whole thing with Lam was probably an act. Just like those wounded puppy eyes of his that got Carter on his side every time./i/

"Cam," Sam got his attention. "I'm pretty sure they kill it before they serve it."

He looked down at his plate, a bit of brisket scattered around his tray. "Just tenderizing it.

"Ah," she nodded, not buying it for a second.


	4. Chapter 4

"Knock, knock," Daniel announced himself, standing in the lab doorway.

"Hey," Sam smiled brightly, looking up from the simulation she was running.

"Am I interrupting?"

"No, of course not. Come on in."

He entered Sam's lab, hands in pockets, kicking his feet as he walked.

"What?" she asked.

"Hum?" he looked at her innocently.

"Hum?" she imitated back.

He fiddled with a couple wayward cogs on her workbench. She leaned on the bench and put her chin in her hand watching him. He kept messing with the cogs, trying to get them stand on end. He concentrated, oblivious to the time passing as he messed, his eyes slightly unfocused.

"You're drugged," she said, smiling.

He looked up as if caught sneaking cookies after bedtime. "A little," he admitted. "My head is killing me."

"It hasn't been this bad in a long time. You never take extra medication at work."

He brushed it off. "I'm fine."

"What are you up to?" she asked, knowingly. "You're avoiding something."

"Have you noticed Mitchell acting kind of weird?" he asked.

"How do you mean?"

"I don't know, just off somehow. Everything seemed fine this morning, but now…." He shrugged. "I don't know if he's just in a bad mood or what."

Sam shifted on her stool, guiltily. "I did get onto him about how he treated you yesterday."

"Yeah, about that," he hedged. "It's sweet of you and everything, but I don't need you to protect me from Mitchell. When I'm getting shot at, you're the first person I want next to me, but when it comes to Mitchell I can take care of myself."

"Sometimes you're too nice," she insisted.

"Sam, I put a hit out on him- with General Landry's permission. I think you were the only one taking all that seriously," he told her, reaching over and putting his hand on her shoulder.

"I don't like the way he picks on you."

"I give it almost as good as I take it," Daniel insisted. "I don't know. Maybe it's a guy thing. Just trust me, okay? I'm fine and I can handle Mitchell."

"But, I…"

"Please, Sam?" he asked. "For the sake of my ego, and what little pride I have left; let me handle this."

"Fine." She didn't like it, but he was so hard to say no to. She always seemed to give in. It was the eyes. She fell for them every time.

"Now, on to new business," he perked up a bit, the awkward part of their conversation over. "You coming with me to the Di Vinci exhibit this weekend or what?"

"Of course, I'm coming," she smiled. "I've been looking forward to this for weeks. We haven't done anything just the two of us in a long time."

"Which is why I was thinking we could make a day of it. Grab a bite, go out for drinks, or something."

"I'd love that."

"Cool. It's a date."

"It's a date," she repeated, glad it was dim enough in her lab to hide her blushing.

"Perfect. I'll come up with a plan and let you know. Unless you have something in mind. "

"No, I'm game for whatever you come up with."

"Cool." He turned to leave.

"Hang on," she stopped him.

"Yeah?" he turned back around.

"Did you do something to your hair?"

"I don't think so." He made that cute confused face Sam loved so much, where he pouted, and half his nose wrinkled. "But you're the fourth or fifth person to ask me that today." He ran his hand through his hair, smoothing it out.

"Come here." She waved him over to her side of the bench. "Let me see."

Obligingly, he strode over, still fidgeting with his hair, trying to figure out what was causing all the commotion. She turned her desk lamp toward him and sat him on her stool.

"Maybe I should get it cut," he suggested as she started styling it.

"No, I like it." She played some more messing it up, combing it out with her fingers and messing it up again.

"Having fun?" he asked with a chuckle as she frowned at the results of her latest tease.

"It won't do that thing I like," she admitted, trying again. "Here." She took his glasses off and put them on her bench. "Maybe they're getting in the way."

She leaned in closely examining his hair, her hands resting on the back of his neck in a loose embrace. He really did have the greatest hair. It was so soft and fun to play with. She wondered what it would be like to…

"Are we done?" he asked interrupting her thoughts.

"One more thing." Making her move, she leaned in.

"Whoa!" Daniel jumped off the stool, moving behind it. "What are you doing?"

"Nothing," she shrugged innocently, stepping toward him.

"Sam," he stepped back. "What's going on?"

"The same thing that's been going on for eight years. I'm just tired of waiting."

He put his hands out in front of him as if backing away from a wild animal. "I have no idea what you're talking about. But this morning is starting to make a lot more sense."

/i/First Chelsea, then Dr. Lam, and now Sam? What have you gotten yourself into, Danny?/i/

He looked for an exit; Sam was between him and the only door. Her workbench was taking up most of the floor space.

"You can't tell me you've never noticed it," she said, almost hurt.

"I can honestly say I haven't," he admitted gently. "This is us we're talking about."

/i/Us, Sam! His mind screamed. You and me! There's never been anything there, that's the point of us./i/

"I'll show you," she insisted, not at all put off by his rejection. "It's there. You're just too shy to notice these things. It's part of what I like about you."

/i/Please don't. Please don't. I need the old you. I need my no-judgment Sam. I need my you-can-tell-me-anything Sam. I need my best friend Sam./i/

"Please. This isn't you." He wasn't sure what to do. He didn't want to hurt her, and when it came down to it, in hand-to-hand his hesitation would give her, even more, advantage than she usually had.

She smiled seductively and kept advancing. "Just one kiss; see what happens."

"Sam," he was pinned to the wall. "Don't."

/i/This isn't right. What did I do? How do I fix it?/i/

"Just one." She leaned in and he ducked under her arm, trying to get around her. She easily sidestepped him, still blocking his way.

"Okay, let's try this," his mind raced, "You have that whole big sister protecting Danny thing going," he tried getting around her again, with no luck. "If you do this, there is a certain someone who will fly all the way here for the sole purpose of kicking my ass," he said pointedly, still trying to fake her out and get away. "I'm going to feel so guilty that I'm going to let him. You wouldn't want that, would you?"

"I can handle Jack." She pushed him up against the wall in the corner, a bank of servers to his right, filing cabinets to his left.

"Listen to yourself," he begged. "This isn't you."

"It is," she leaned in, closing her eyes prepared to kiss.

"Sam," He turned his head away and prepared to physically move her out of the way if he had to. She wouldn't stop. "Hathor," he tried in desperation. It was a similar enough situation; he hoped she understood the connection.

She had been his rock after Hathor. She stayed up with him all night, not talking, not judging, and just sitting next to him, letting him process what happened. He had been too embarrassed to talk to Jack about it, macho pride keeping him from letting on how scared and ashamed he felt after being forced into… that. Publically, he joked about it. Privately, Sam had been his safe place, a role they had played for each other dozens of times over the years. But Hathor had been his lowest, rawest moment. Something never alluded to much less mentioned. Until now.

It seemed to work. She stopped, eyes clearing.

"Please don't do this," he asked, hoping he was getting through to her. The next step was a physical confrontation.

"Daniel?" She shook her head, confused and backed away.

"Sam?" he asked. 

/i/Please be the real Sam. Please./i/

"You need to get away from me," she told him urgently.

"What do you think I've been trying to do?" he asked incredulously, moving to put her workbench between them.

"Something is wrong," she said. "I don't want to do this to anyone else. I'll stay here, you go get Dr. Lam."

"I can't," he admitted.

"Why not?"

"It's me, Sam. There's something wrong with me."


	5. Chapter 5

"Let me get this straight," General Landry started. He, Dr. Lam, Sam, Mitchell, and Teal'c were standing in the observation room, Daniel was quarantined on the other side of the glass in insolation room three. "Multiple women have been flirting with you today, and your logical explanation is that something is terribly wrong with you."

"Well, it's a bit more complicated than that, sir. You have to take the circumstances and actual people into consideration."

"Jackson," Mitchell interrupted him, having too much fun judging by the grin on his face. "Yes or no: women seem to be interested in you; therefore, something is horribly, horribly wrong."

Daniel sighed. "Sam, help me out here?"

"Sir, I have known Daniel for a very long time," she started. "And we are very close, but I'm not remotely romantically interested in him. I have never been. Until about an hour ago when I was convinced I've been in love with him the entire time."

"Told you, you were a dog!" Mitchell laughed at Daniel who rolled his eyes.

"And neither one of you can think of anything out of the ordinary that may have caused this?" Landry asked.

"Nothing that singles me out," Daniel said. "I've been on base for a week straight working on the backlog of artifacts and translations, so it wasn't anything I ate or drank, that's all been from the mess with the rest of the base. The entire team was on that planet with those god-awful flowers and we never separated. All I did last night was go straight home. This morning I stopped for coffee on my way in and that's when it all started." He shrugged and leaned on the bed, his neck was starting to hurt from looking up so much. "I think." He added belatedly.

"You think?" Landry asked. "You're not sure?"

"Daniel's…" Sam fished for the right words. "Charmingly oblivious when it comes to women flirting with them."

"That's for the charming bit," Daniel half mumbled.

"I think it's kinda cute," she admitted with a flirty smile.

"Sam," Daniel warned.

"I'm doing it again, aren't I?" she was mortified.

"Flirty Carter is a little creepy," Mitchell stepped aside, putting Teal'c between them.

"It is unnerving," Teal'c agreed. "Dr. Lam is also exhibiting…"

"Anyway!" Daniel cut him off. "Whatever it is, it's not limited to proximity or shared airspace."

"It may be visual," Sam offered.

"People do keep asking me about my hair," Daniel agreed, fidgeting with it again on reflex.

"It's not," Dr. Lam answered before she could stop herself.

Daniel looked up wide-eyed, before quickly directing his attention elsewhere. He really didn't want the General to know he had accidentally cast some sort of lust spell on his daughter.

"The nurses have been talking about him all day," she explained. "More so than usual."

"There's a usual amount?" Mitchell and Daniel questioned simultaneously, one jealous, the other confused.

"So how is it transmitted?" Landry tried to keep everyone on topic. "And what is it?"

"For now, I think the best course of action is to keep Daniel from coming in contact with any other female personnel," Sam said.

"I'll collect some biologic samples and see what I can find there," Dr. Lam added. "And we should probably have Dr. Mackenzie speak with any of the women he's had an effect on."

"That will include you and Col. Carter," Landry said pointedly. Jackson was acting like a nervous teenager building up the nerve to ask permission to date his daughter; Carolyn wouldn't stop staring at him like he was the 'cute one' in the latest boy band. Try as they may to hide it, Landry spotted the signs the second the two had made eye contact. "Dr. Jackson, I will need a list of everyone you have had contact within the last 72 hours."

"I can try," Daniel promised.

"If you so much as shared an elevator with someone I want to know," Landry insisted. "If you're not sure, err on the side of caution and give me the name."

. . . . . . . . . . . . .

"Do you really think Jackson is having some weird magical effect on women?" Mitchell asked Teal'c as they put together an entertainment care package, which for the unwaveringly nerdy archeologist meant dusty books, beat up journals, and ye olde middle English dictionary.

"The way Colonel Carter is behaving is quite unusual."

"Is it really?" Mitchell put two more books from Daniel's list to the pile Teal'c was holding. "There's always been something weird between them."

"I have worked closely with Colonel Carter and Daniel Jackson for many years and observed no romantic inclination between them."

"You sure, big guy? 'Cause from where I'm standing they look pretty chummy."

"Their bond is more akin to that of siblings than that of romantic partners."

"Siblings," Mitchell repeated.

"O'Neill frequently referred to Colonel Carter and Daniel Jackson as the Science Twins."

Mitchell laughed. "I'm using that one."

Teal'c nodded.

"Welp, this should keep him occupied for a good long while." Mitchell took the journal pile off the table. "Shall we?"


	6. Chapter 6

Daniel laughed at Dr. Lam as she came in. She was dressed for low-level infectious disease in a smock, with a mask and gloves, pushing a cart with what she needed.

"It's just a precaution, "she defended, trying to wrangle the surge of affection that washed over her at his smile. She knew it wasn't real, but damned if she didn't melt a bit when he looked at her and smiled.

"Can't say I blame you." He put out his arm and rolled up his sleeve to give a blood sample as she prepared the needle.

"Are you feeling alright?" she kept her eyes on his arm, forcing herself to concentrate.

"This is the most embarrassed I've ever been in my life," he admitted. "Which is saying something. I've been beamed back to the base butt naked straight into the general's office."

She snorted, suddenly very curious about how that looked. Probably pretty damn good.

"Luckily, it was Jack's office at the time," he continued, rambling. "And he was the only one who actually saw anything, which is the only reason this is the winning moment in my life, even though I have my pants on."

"I meant the allergies," she clarified.

"And you just let me keep talking?" He laughed and shook his head. "Is that payback for running you down and spilling coffee all over your files?" Somehow knowing that the attention he was getting was due to some outside force and not him being found attractive by attractive women, made it much easier for Daniel to accept the attention and even flirt a little. The irony was not lost on him.

She shrugged and disposed of the used needle in the sharps container.

"Headache," he admitted, keeping on topic. "Eyes are itchy, the usual stuff. Nowhere near as bad as yesterday, though."

"Good." She checked his pulse. "Calm down."

"Sure- just as soon as I stop making an ass of myself."

She put a thermometer in his mouth. "Then stop talking."

He would have made a face at her, but she was too busy avoiding eye contact for the gesture to do any good.

"A little high," she said reading the result ninety seconds later. "But not unexpectedly. Did you take anything this morning?"

"Just the usual. I did take some OTC stuff this afternoon for a headache."

She nodded. "Do you remember what?" She kept her eyes on his chart as she took her notes.

"It's in my office," he shrugged.

"Is it ok if I send someone down to get it? I just need to know exactly what you're taking."

"It's fine. Should just be sitting on my desk. Maybe by the coffee maker."

"Alright. Just a couple more samples and we're done."

"Take what you need," he allowed her.

She swabbed the inside of his cheek, his arm, and his neck. He looked at her for an explanation, but she didn't offer one. When she reached for his hair, he ducked away- that was how the whole mess with Sam had gotten out of control.

"I just need a sample," she insisted, reaching again. This time he allowed her to pluck a couple hairs. "Carter wants to know what artifacts you've been working on," she told him as she packed up her samples.

"Sure."

"I'll get these to biology and let you know as soon as we get something. In the meantime, stay put."

He nodded. "I know the drill." He leaned back on the bed, hands behind his head, settling in for the long haul.

"Do you need anything?" she hesitated to leave him alone, no one to talk to. Plus, now she had the idea of him naked in her head and it was hard to push that aside. He probably didn't realize he was posing for her, Playgirl style, making it that much harder to concentrate. She shook her head, trying to focus as he spoke.

"I'm fine. Mitchell and Teal'c are getting my stuff."

. . . . . . . . . . . . .

Shift change was always a busy time on base. Twice the amount of people milled around the halls, clogging the elevators, and bumping into each other. It took three tries before an elevator stopped with enough room for Teal'c, Mitchell, and their payload to get on.

"Excuse me, sorry," Mitchell apologized to the Major behind him after stepping on her toe. "I didn't break any toes, did I?"

"No, sir," she smiled. "Can I help you carry?" she eyed the books.

"I'm sure you have places to be, Major."

"I don't report until 08:00 tomorrow. I'm happy to help."

Not bad, Cammy, Mitchell smiled to himself. Tread lightly and keep it cool. 

"Thank you, then." He handed the Major some of the journals. "We're taking this isolation for a friend. He's got himself into a bit of a situation."

"That's sweet o you," she smiled and hugged the journals to her chest like a school girl. "Is your friend okay?"

"Eh, he's fine." Mitchell allowed himself a quick second to appreciate the view. "He just needs looking after sometimes."

The elevator stopped on their floor and they pushed around the others to get out.

"Is it safe to assume we're talking about Dr. Jackson?" the Major asked, falling into step beside Mitchell.

/i/Dang it, does every woman fall for him? What is it about that guy?/i/

"If I may say, sir…" she continued.

"Be my guest."

"He seems like he's a bit of a handful."

"He's a good guy, if not a bit…" /i/Be nice, Cammy./i/ "Accident-prone."

"Well, he's lucky to have someone like you looking out for him."

/i/She likes the whole brother's keeper thing, huh?/i/

Mitchell shrugged. "No man left behind- not even in the infirmary."

They stopped outside the door of room three. Mitchell reached into his pocket for his access card- but it wasn't there. He smiled at the Major and searched his other pocket with no luck. 

/i/Really, Cammy? You get this far and then pull a Jackson? What is wrong with you?/i/

"Is everything okay?" she asked watching him search his pockets. Was she smiling at him? Well, go figure, the bumbling doofus act really did work.

"Gotcha!" he found his access card in his breast pocket. "They do like to hide."

"They do," she smiled.

"Indeed." Mitchell had forgotten Teal'c was there.

"Well, Major, your kindness is appreciated, but this is as far as you go," Mitchell took the journals back. "Restricted access."

"Of course, Colonel. Happy to help." She smiled before walking away.

Teal'c frowned at Mitchell and walked into the room.

"What?" Mitchell asked.


	7. Chapter 7

"You got something?" Sam asked entering the biology lab where Dr. Lam stood over a microscope.

"Look at that," Dr. Lam indicated the report on the desk next to her.

Sam picked it up. "Is this Daniel's?"

"Yes."

She read it over. "Raised testosterone level, trace amounts of steroids, and a high concentration of unknown pathogens." She looked up. "What does that mean?"

"It means that we've identified whatever is causing all this. Now we just have to figure out what it is we've identified."

"Well," Sam sighed. "The easy part is over."

"And now we get to the fun part," Dr. Lam couldn't help but get a bit excited. The mystery was half the fun. "I took some samples from Dr. Jackson and found these beauties."

Sam moved to the microscope.

"That's his baseline blood sample taken about a month ago," Dr. Lam explained. "And this one," she changed out the slides for Sam, "was taken a couple hours ago."

Sam frowned as she examined the new sample. She didn't know a lot of biology, she remembered her university courses were boring. But, seeing the samples one after the other, it was easy to spot the difference.

"What are those?" she asked, upping the magnification to get a closer look. There were spores in his bloodstream that looked like the spiked balls at the end of a medieval mace. "Are they wiggling independently?"

"Just wait." Dr. Lam changed the slides. "That's a cheek swab."

"There they are again." Sam looked up. "How does he have the same spores in his bloodstream and on his skin?"

"And why isn't his body fighting the spores like any other infection?" Dr. Lam added. "And what's more, look at this." She switched out the slides one more time. "These suckers really are everywhere. I took a hair sample to check for any chemicals he may have had long-term exposure to- which there weren't any- but…"

"It's those same spores," Sam looked up. "He must be covered in them."

"So why only him? If his timelines are correct, there's a very narrow window in which he could have been exposed without anyone else around. He signed out at 18:30 last night and signed in this morning at 08:45. He said he first noticed something was off when he stopped for coffee on the way in. Which gives us a thirteen-hour window when he was by himself."

Sam took it all in. "So, we're thinking he was exposed to something off base?"

"You were all on that planet with him and every artifact he's been working on have been handled by other scientists. No one else is presenting these symptoms. He swears up and down that nothing out of the ordinary has happened to him. So, unless he's lying…" Dr. Lam left the rest unsaid.

"I don't see why he would be," Sam shook her head. "And, frankly, he's terrible at it."

"He doesn't seem the type," Dr. Lam agreed.

"I can talk to him. If he's going to confess anything, I'll be able to get it out of him."

"Before you leave," Dr. Lam stopped her. "I'd like to take a few samples from you. I've already given mine and I've asked Dr. Mackenzie to gather samples from anyone who has been exposed."

"Yeah, of course." Sam rolled up her sleeve while Dr. Lam got ready. "I can't stop thinking about him," she confessed quietly while her blood sample was drawn. "It's strange. Part of me thinks it's ridiculous, and part of me won't let it go. I have to constantly remind myself that he's in isolation for a reason and I can't go to him."

"All I want to do is bust him out like it's some huge romantic gesture," Dr. Lam confided. "I want him to run away with me." She rolled her eyes. "I've turned into a damsel in a John Hughes movie."

"For Daniel," Sam added in disbelief. "I'm mean…. Daniel."

"Exactly. He's not my type at all."

"He's more of a brother to me than my own brother."

Neither woman spoke. They were trying to logic away the compulsive feelings they were having.

"He really is a sweet guy," Dr. Lam admitted.

"Yeah," Sam agreed. "Thoughtful, too."

"He has a great smile."

"His eyes."

"Oh, god those eyes."

They stared at each other, sizing up the competition.

"I should, uh," Sam cleared her throat. "I should see if Cam can talk to him."

"I'll get one of the male biologists to check out these spores." Dr. Lam turned her back to Sam, embarrassed.

"The sooner the better."

. . . . . . . . . . . . .

"You're right, Mitchell," Daniel grinned. "This is way more fun than working." He moved the robber to Mitchell's most profitable resource. "Hand it over." He drew a card of Mitchell's deck and several swift moves later had the game all but won.

"I hate you right now," Mitchell pouted.

"You're the one who talked me into playing a board game," Daniel pointed out.

"Well, yeah."

"You were the one who picked Settlers of Catan."

"And you, Daniel Jackson, are the one who must surrender the largest army to me," Teal'c cut in.

"What?" Daniel had been so busy arguing with Mitchell he had missed what Teal'c was up to during his turn. He examined the board, counting points. "Damn it."

"Having fun, gentlemen?" Gen. Landry asked from the doorway.

"Sir." Mitchell stood up from where he was sitting at the head of the bed which was serving as a couch, pushing the food tray, that had been serving as a table, out of the way.

"I was having fun while I was winning," Daniel joked, trying to get a feel for the room. "But Teal'c just out-muscled me."

Landry surveyed the game board. "I'm a longest road man, myself."

"If I'm stuck in here long enough to play a second game, you're welcome to join."

"I hope it won't come to that, Doctor."

"Does that mean Sam has something?"

"They have a lead," Landry told him, not wanting to get their hopes up. "They think they have the what. They're just working on the how and the why."

"Which they'll need before they can fix anything," Mitchell said.

"Right," Daniel nodded. "Did they tell you what they think it is?"

He didn't like not being able to discuss this directly with Sam. It bothered him that on some level, intentional or not, he was hurting her, manipulating her. Not to mention Dr. Lam and poor Chelsea at the coffee shop and apparently the nurses that had been on staff last night. Somehow, he was forcing them to have feelings for him against their will. He welcomed the distraction of board games and bickering with Mitchell. When left to his own devices all he could think about was Hathor and how helpless he had felt being manipulated by her, used, taken advantage of and the confusion and guilt that followed.

Sam spent hours with him after it happened. Not talking. Not listening. Just sitting with him as he tried to process it all. There was a lot of beer involved that weekend.

Now, he was doing it to her. And she had to save herself. He was letting her down in two ways without even trying.

There was a lot of guilt and confusion attached to this, too.

"Doctor?" Daniel felt a hand on his shoulder. He blinked, looking up. Teal'c and Mitchell were gone, Landry was standing over him with a worried frown.

"Sorry," Daniel admitted. "I wasn't listening."

"I know, son," Landry seemed to understand. "Dr. Mackenzie will be coming to speak with you later today."

"Sir, I-"

Landry put up a hand, cutting him off mid-protest. "I know you two don't have the best history, but you will not be allowed on active duty until he clears you."

Daniel shook his head, but he knew better than to argue. "Fine… uh, yessir," he corrected.

"In the meantime, don't you have anything non-work-related things you can do?" Landry looked at the references and documents Daniel had requested. "Maybe relax a little? Or is that the one word you don't have in your vocabulary?"

Daniel almost pointed out that Landry had dismissed his friends who had been helping him relax but suppressed the smart-alecky remark. "I've got some personal stuff in there," he said instead.

"Alright," Landry let it go, but he didn't entirely believe him. "If you need anything call my secretary. He has standing orders to take care of anything you need."

"Thanks."

Landry left, and Daniel picked up the dark green leather journal from P4X-966. Since nothing had really come from that mission- except for fuel for his rivalry with Mitchell- it was mostly blank. Anxious about his pending appointment with his least favorite shrink in the world, he grabbed a pen and started writing.


	8. Chapter 8

Mitchell looked at the trays of samples that had been collected from various personnel from around the base that Daniel had come in contact with.

"Jackson's pretty popular around here," he quipped as the nurse prepared to take his blood.

"He gets around," she said before blushing. "Not that I'm saying he's…"

"I know what you mean. He does seem to be involved in everything."

"Exactly."

"The man's a workhorse."

"He is," she agreed. "Though, I prefer to actually relax every now and then."

"Me, too." Today was his lucky day. Guess this love plague Jackson's spreading is getting everyone in the mood. "What do you like to do for fun?" Mitchell asked as she put a bandage on the puncture wound.

"The usual," she shrugged as she got a sterile swab ready. "Movies, concerts, there's a stable outside of town; I go riding sometimes."

"Horses, eh?" Mitchell asked as she swabbed his cheek.

"Do you ride, Colonel?"

"What sort of southern boy would I be if I didn't?" He flashed her his best smile.

"We should go sometime," she returned the smile.

"I'd like that."

. . . . . . . . . . . . .

Dr. Bandler in biology double checked his findings. He'd repeated his experiment four times with the same results. Null. He dosed several male mice with the spores found on Dr. Jackson and it didn't influence their interaction with the female mice at all.

"Alright number four," Dr. Bandler picked up the mouse. "Sorry, you struck out with the ladies. I know just how you feel." He put number four back in his cage. 

"Boys," he addressed the row of male mice in their individual cages. "We're not giving up on you, yet. We've got a few tricks up our sleeves. If one of these ends up working, I may be able to market it… or at least keep some for me."

He took cotton balls with the spores on them in each of the male mice's cages. Each one of his boys immediately sniffed and inspected the new décor. Three scurried off to the far end of their cage in deference to the cotton ball, and one challenged the cotton ball to a fight for dominance. Dr. Bandler picked up the phone and dialed Dr. Lam. There was more to this than they thought.


	9. Chapter 9

Daniel's knee bounced as he impatiently waited for Dr. Mackenzie to finish. It had seemed like a good idea at the time, writing everything in the journal, but now he was forced to watch the base psychologist read it and wonder what part he was on and why he was making those 'hum' noises.

"It's an interesting tactic," Dr. Mackenzie admitted, closing the journal. "Why do you suppose you decided to handle our meeting this way?"

"I hoped you'd take it and leave," Daniel mumbled.

"Daniel, you know how this works," Dr. Mackenzie coached him.

He sighed. "I don't know. It was something to do. No one's telling me what's happening out there. I can't help Sam. I can't just sit here. I'm not good at just sitting here."

"You feel out of control."

"I feel…isolated," Daniel said, with a wry smirk. "Which, you know, isolation room and all." He waved his hand at their surroundings. They were seated facing each other in the middle of the room.

"Does writing help that?"

"Yeah, I suppose so," he admitted, not sure where this line of questioning was going.

"That's healthy."

Daniel shrugged.

Dr. Mackenzie leaned forward in his chair. "I want to talk to you about Hathor."

"I already wrote about that," he tried to shut down the conversation. "Read it again if you want."

"You didn't address the most important part."

"Not this again," he sighed and rolled his eyes.

"Daniel…"

"Look, I know, okay?" Daniel cut him off. "I know where you're going with this. I would never do that. That's what makes this different."

"No one is saying you would. But it makes you think about what happened to you." Mackenzie kept his tone even. "You're the one who brought it up." He waved the journal.

"Can't we talk about something else?" Daniel asked. "Like my control issues? Or my low self-esteem, you love that one."

"Let's talk about your relationship with Col. Carter."

"Okay." Daniel was less on edge. Sam was a safe topic.

"Are you attracted to her?"

"Nope."

"Be honest, Daniel."

"I am. I'm not attracted to Sam. I have never been."

"What about Dr. Lam?"

Daniel hesitated.

"Are you attracted to her?"

Daniel rubbed the back of his neck, avoiding eye contact. "Yeah," he finally admitted. "I must be."

"What do you mean?"

"Because I flirted back. Or, I tried to. I wanted to. Women have been flirting with me all day and she was the only one I noticed. That has to mean something."

"You noticed Col. Carter flirting with you."

"Sure," Daniel scoffed. "When she had me pinned against the wall. Everything that lead up to that seemed pretty normal."

"You're not a small man, Daniel. Why didn't you fight back?"

"I didn't want to hurt her. She was acting that way because of whatever the hell is wrong with me. I felt like I had already assaulted her, somehow. I didn't want to hurt her physically, too."

Dr. Mackenzie nodded.

"What?" Daniel asked. What had he said? What was that nod? Was it a good nod or a bad nod?

"You're a rare breed, Daniel." Dr. Mackenzie told him. "Most men would be thanking their lucky stars for having attractive women throw themselves at him."

"And I'm the loser who thinks that clearly they must be brainwashed."

"No. You're an intuitive person who sees people as whole beings. Someone who takes the whole picture into account."

"Maybe it's a side effect of the whole ascension thing," he shrugged it off.

"You've always been this way. You're the type of guy that can notice the trees while still appreciating the forest. That's rare."

Daniel didn't know how to respond. He wasn't used to shrinks saying nice things about him. Especially Mackenzie.

"Frankly, we're lucky that this happened to you," Mackenzie continued. "I can't think of another man on this base who would have noticed this quickly. Who knows how far it would have spread before action was taken."

Daniel frowned. This wasn't how his sessions with Dr. Mackenzie usually went. Usually, there was a lot of yelling and arguing on Daniel's part and a lot of frustration on the psychologist's part. They didn't get along. Not after Hathor. And certainly not after Mackenzie had him forcibly committed. That was one grudge Daniel had no intention of letting go. In fact, usually, that would have been brought up at least once by now. Instead, Mackenzie was in here complimenting him to the point of almost being unprofessional.

"I'm affecting men, too," Daniel realized. "You need to get out of here."

"What are you talking about?"

He got out of his chair and backed away. "You and I never get along this well. Things never go this smoothly with us."

"Could it be that we're getting along because you acknowledge you need help right now?" Dr. Mackenzie asked reasonably.

"Maybe," Daniel hedged, keeping his distance.

"Are you more comfortable over there?"

"Yes." Daniel crossed his arms over his chest and leaned against the far wall.

"Why?"

"Because you don't believe me, and this is the best I can do to protect you from whatever is happening," he snapped at him.

"You're getting defensive."

"Of course, I am. You never believe me, even though historically I've always been right."

"Is being right important to you?"

"We've had this conversation before. It's just going to end with you trying to justify what you did to me. And then you're going to keep not listening to me."

"With your family history-"

"Nick was right, too."

"We didn't know that at the time."

Daniel didn't answer. Weirdly, fighting with Mackenzie was giving him a sense of normalcy. He didn't even want to know what Mackenzie would say if he admitted that. He'd probably never be cleared to go back on active duty if that truth came out.

"Let's get back on topic," Dr. Mackenzie suggested. "You said you were feeling isolated."

"I don't like not being able to help."

Before Daniel to explain any further, the door opened, and Sam's voice came over the intercom.

"Dr. Mackenzie, Dr. Lam would like you to report to the infirmary," she said.

"Sam?" Daniel looked at her on the other side of the observation room glass. "What's going on?"

"You're more contagious than we thought."

"What does that mean?" he asked as Mackenzie left the room at a nice rush Daniel smugly noted.

"You're spreading a pathogen that changes people's perception of you, women and men."

"I noticed that part. What's causing it?"

"We still can't single out anything that only you could have been exposed to," Sam admitted. "Can you think of anything you haven't already told us? Are you sure nothing out of the ordinary has happened to you?"

"Sam, I was on the base all day every day for a week. The first time I went home was last night. Other than…" he trailed off.

"What do you remember?' she asked urgently.

"Something Mackenzie said."

"We'll be sure not to tell him," she said.

"He said any other man on the base if he'd been exposed to whatever this is, might not have noticed as quickly as I did."

"What?"

"Someone like Mitchell or Teal'c wouldn't have necessarily thought something was wrong when they noticed women flirting with them."

Sam stared down at Daniel. "The flowers."

"It's the only thing that makes sense… Has anyone been flirting you with you, Sam?"

"I've been so fixated on you I probably wouldn't have noticed," she admitted. "We've got to get Mitchell and Teal'c down here, too." Sam picked up the phone and called the General directly. She was not looking forward to explaining this one.


	10. Chapter 10

Daniel looked up as the door opened. He smirked at Mitchell as he sheepishly walked into the isolation room.

"Hey, there," Daniel welcomed him.

"Don't start," Mitchell grumbled.

"What?" he asked innocently.

"I'll have you know I happen to be very charming."

"Sure, you are."

"Women like a nice southern drawl."

"I bet they do."

"You don't have to be so smug about it," Mitchell leaned on the bed.

"I'm agreeing with you," Daniel pointed out.

"In an arrogant, smug, sarcastic kinda way."

"It's the same way I always agree with you."

Mitchell sighed. "Do you have to rub it in right now?"

"I don't really have to… but I am so bored."

"You could be with Carter explaining all this to Landry," Mitchell shrugged.

. . . . . . . . . . . . .

"We were too quick to narrow our search," Sam admitted to the General. "We focused on things only Daniel would have been exposed to and ruled out the obvious answer." She felt ridiculous. It seemed alarmingly obvious now. It should have been their first instinct. She hoped that she could blame it on her scrambled hormones messing with her usually up on it brain.

"The plant life on P4X-966 did this," Landry looked over the preliminary report in front of him.

"We were all affected by it; Daniel was just the first to notice," she continued. "It's the pollen. It acts as an aphrodisiac. It is absorbed into the male's body where it mutates into a pathogen-specific to that male which he then spreads to the female and…"

"And I end up with an SGC full of teenagers chasing after Col. Mitchell and Dr. Jackson."

Sam deflated a bit. "We can't be that bad."

"Where are we on a cure?" Landry asked, keeping on topic.

"Dr. Lam is working with Biology and Botany. I'm about to head down there myself."

"None of our botanists are spreading this, are they?" He wasn't sure if he wanted to know the answer. If he had wanted to oversee raging hormones and puppy love he would have become a high school principal, not an Air Force General.

"Only Dr. Murry has worked with the flora sample we brought back and since only men seem to be able to mutate the pollen she's in the clear. We have restricted the access to the un-mutated pollen to women and the mutated pathogens to the men."

"I thought it affected the men, too."

"Affected men defer to the carrier as the alpha," Sam agreed. "But, that seems to be restricted to proximity."

"And Mitchell and Jackson?"

"They're asking for pizza."

Landry shook his head. How SG-1 always seemed to take these situations in stride never ceased to amaze him. It was as if they thrived on it. "I'll see what the kitchen can do," he promised. Next, they'd be asking for beer, a movie, and more board games.

. . . . . . . . . . . . .

"What language is this?" Mitchell asked, looking through one of Daniel's dusty old books.

Daniel glanced up from the one he was reading. "English."

"No, it's not 'And oft bope blysse and blunder Ful skete hatz skyfted synne. Pis kyng lay at Camylot vpon Krystmasse' That is not English."

"The King lay at Camelot at Christmas," Daniel translated the last bit emphatically. "Sir Gawain and the Green Knight. It's English."

"It's not normal English," Mitchell mumbled putting it back down.

"It's not modern English," Daniel corrected him. "Still English, though."

"Don't you have anything good in here?" Mitchell put the book down and started looking through the others.

"I'm sorry my library isn't interesting enough for you," Daniel's attention was back on the text laid out on his lap.

"It's not in English," Mitchell insisted.

"It is," Daniel argued, smirking into this book.

"Is not."

"Is too."

"Not the kind I can read."

Daniel sighed. "Fine. Do you want this one? It was written in the nineteenth century. Nice modern English."

"No," Mitchell pouted and snuffed his boot along the floor.

"Do you want to whine?"

"Yes."

"Do I have to listen?"

"No."

"Then proceed." Daniel went back to reading.

"It's just- how does locking us in here help anything?" Mitchell started pacing. "It's already spread. What's the point?"

"To minimize the risk of further contamination."

"The base has a recirculated air system. If anyone is getting dosed that way they've already got it."

"Which makes me really anxious to get out there," Daniel mumbled. "I've been embarrassed enough for one day, thank you."

Mitchell sighed, shoving his hands in his pockets as he kept pacing. After Mitchell crossed the floor for the fifth time Daniel rolled his eyes and closed his book.

"What's really bothering you?" he asked.

"Nothin'."

"So, pacing like a caged animal is your version of twiddling your thumbs?"

Mitchell stopped mid-pace and scowled at the man sitting cross-legged on the bed. Damn Jackson. Damn that knowing look of his.

"How could I not tell?" Mitchell finally asked, sitting on a chair facing the bed. "You noticed hours before I did. I even knew what was happening and I didn't think anything of how people were treating me. I thought I was…" he couldn't finish the thought. "How arrogant do you have to be?"

"I only knew something was wrong when Sam started acting strangely," Daniel admitted. "Everything up to that point was weird, but I could justify it. Sam was just a sign too big to ignore."

"But, still…"

"Mitchell," Daniel cut him off, putting up a hand. "I've been doing this for a long time. Weird stuff happens, and we don't always notice right away. That's the job. I've been brainwashed, possessed, addicted to the sarcophagus, and a light that nearly got me to commit suicide, sent to multiple parallel universes, stuck in the past, stuck out of phase, hell, I was dead for over a year… But even I think that me being the most attractive guy on base is one of the weirdest," he paused and frowned at himself. "I had a point when I started."

"That it comes with the job," Mitchell said. "You're saying to suck it up and get moving because this is what I signed up for."

"I don't think that was what I was going for, but sure. We'll go with that."


	11. Chapter 11

"He really is the sweetest guy."

"Have you seen him with his shirt off?"

"Oh, honey, I've seen way more than that. And believe me, he has everything that a girl can want."

"You have not."

"Bedpan duty does have its perks on occasion."

"You'll be wishing for bedpans if you three don't get back to work," Dr. Lam grumbled at her nurses. They were in a little clump by the coffee pot bragging about seeing Dr. Jackson and Col. Mitchell in various stages of undress.

"Yes, ma'am," the nurses mumbled breaking apart quickly.

"Look," she stopped them. "I know what you're going through. But we have to stay on task here. There are people who need our undivided attention. We're working on a cure, and until then we keep our heads on straight."

"Yes, ma'am," the nurses agreed.

"We're good? Everyone can concentrate?"

As the nurses moved to their tasks, Dr. Lam took a deep, steadying breath. It was getting harder and harder to concentrate as the hours passed. She'd caught herself daydreaming more than once when she should have been paying attention to her patients. It was the little things that reminded her of him that really set her off. She dropped a file and instantly thought of how sweet Dr. Jackson had been in the hallway. How quick he'd been to help. How even with his rough, calloused hands he had been so gentle and almost tender. At first, she had wondered what made his hands so rough. After all, he was constantly buried to his nose in books. But, he had a life outside the confines of the SGC; he went off for weeks at a time to participate in and lead digs and didn't shy away from manual labor. Before all this, he had been a practicing archaeologist. He'd made his fair share of discoveries after putting in the time and effort. After all that research, he did get out into the world to prove his theories.

He spent hours working in the hot sun just to see what he could find, to satisfy his intellectual curiosity. In the dirt, sweaty, his muscles showing through his wet shirt as the fabric clung to his skin. Dirt under his nail and smudged across his brow, his eyes lighting up when he found what he was looking for. A confident grin spreading across his face as he looked up to show her his new treasure. How he wrapped his strong, tanned arms around her to celebrate his new discovery, sweeping her off her feet and kissing her with…

"Doctor?"

"Yes?" Abruptly she shook out of her fantasy and found a young lieutenant looking at her expectantly.

"Your requisition forms for the infirmary? I was told you had them ready?"

"Yes." She closed her eyes and took a deep breath, fighting for focus. "Right here." She handed the forms over and tried not to blush. There was no way the lieutenant knew what she had been fantasizing about.

"Thank you, ma'am."

Alone again in her office, she sat down behind her desk. How had she even gotten off on that tangent? Dr. Jackson wasn't her type. She preferred men with more of strength in their demeanor. Someone who wasn't so out of place on a football field or at a total loss when it came to a good hike in the mountains. She couldn't imagine Dr. Jackson out camping for the weekend, or changing the oil in his car, or even being the one to man the grill at a bar-b-que. He was probably the type who made sure there was enough ice for the coolers or thought to bring lemonade for the kids and stayed to help with the dishes after the bar-b-que.

The type of thoughtful guy who remembered your favorite ice cream and brought you flowers for no reason. He'd remember your birthday and what you wore on your first date together. The kind of guy who wouldn't scoff at the more tender side of romance. He probably genuinely liked to cuddle.

To hold you on the couch, wrapped up in a blanket together in front of the fireplace. Sitting and being together after dinner at your favorite restaurant, a romantic candlelit dinner, a long night of conversation tucked up against his chest. The warmth of his body warding off the chill of the night. The smell of his cologne, natural, musky, mixing with the earthy smoke of the fire...

"Okay!" she snapped herself out of it. She stood up and started walking, knowing that going to the isolation room was a bad idea, but she had to see him. It wasn't right ignoring him, leaving him locked up by himself.

He was probably so lonely. She just wanted to check on him. Just say hi. As his doctor, it was her responsibility to check on his wellbeing. She hadn't checked on him since taking the biologic samples from him, which was hours ago. He really was due for a check-up. She needed to check his vitals and if that meant he needed to take his shirt off, that really wasn't her fault.

Satisfied that this was an actual physician related visit to Dr. Jackson and not just the effects of the pathogen, she waited for the elevator. Only when the doors opened, and she saw Col. Carter inside did she start to question her motives again.

"Hi," they greeted each other awkwardly. Guilty. Caught. Busted.

"Any progress on the cure?" Dr. Lam asked hopefully. At least with Col. Carter around, she seemed to think more clearly. She pressed the button for the next floor, giving them the chance to get out before they made it to the isolation level.

"I have no idea," Carter admitted.

"Been keeping busy?"

"I named our children," she confessed with a hint of bemusement.

Dr. Lam nodded knowingly. "We had our honeymoon in Italy."

"We went to France."

They got off the elevator on a safe floor, the administration offices were a good Dr. Jackson free environment and walked just to keep themselves busy.

"France is romantic," Dr. Lam said.

"He proposed under the Eiffel Tower," Sam explained as if this were all the most natural thing in the world. It was nice to have someone to talk to who understood where she was coming from. Fight it as she may she couldn't get him out of her head. The usual Daniel quirks that under normal circumstances made her roll her eyes or tease him were suddenly endearing and romantic.

His constant scribbling in his journals? No longer was he distracted and ignoring what she was saying in favor of jotting down his latest theory. Now he was writing poetry for her, so inspired by his love for her he had to get it down on paper to immortalize his love. All the artifacts and knick-knacks crammed on his office shelves were not because of his inability to throw anything away, but important mementos of their adventures together.

"Sorry," Sam apologized.

"I'm doing it, too," Dr. Lam sighed. "I hope we get this figured out soon. It's getting hard to function."


	12. Chapter 12

Dr. Bandler carefully recorded his findings. Seven of Jackson-Mouse's female companions were pregnant, and Mitchell-Mouse was currently mating with girlfriend number four.

"That's right, Mitchell, join the ranks of my mice who get more action in one day than I have all year," he mumbled to himself.

When Mitchell-Mouse was done Dr. Bandler waited for him to leave the female, then removed her from the cage, placing her back with Mitchell-Mouse's other girlfriends.

"Don't suppose we'll be wanting for mice anytime soon." Bandler finished his notes and continued his experiment. "You boys want some time together? A couple beers and the game sound good?"

So far Jackson-Mouse and Mitchell-Mouse had gotten along just fine. They did not fight over territory or seem bothered at all to be in the same cage. They would sniff each other out and then proceed to their mouse business as usual. Usually, the male mice were carefully kept in their own cages in the lab as they seemed to fight at the drop of a hat. The pollen seemed to have mellowed out the two dosed males and they had no interest in fighting over territory.

Bandler watched the two mice wander about the cage, respectfully keeping their distance from each other. Even when food was introduced, the mice got together to get what they wanted and then moved apart to feast. Bandler watched them eat, introduced water and watched them calmly take turns at the bottle.

"You boys are boring," Bandler said to himself. "Let's see how the roommates handle visitors."

He debated putting a female in the cage with the males but decided against it. No need to put her in harm's way on purpose. He picked one of Jackson-mouse's mates, the first one he had impregnated, and swabbed her gently before dropping the swab in the cage. Jackson-mouse immediately mounted the swab and happily humped away until Mitchell-mouse dared to sneak a sniff. Then all hell broke loose for ninety savage seconds. Bander couldn't tell who the victor was, he'd lost track of who was who in the fight. Truth be told he wasn't worried about who won. He just had to make sure they hadn't allowed Dr. Jackson and Col. Mitchell to ride out their isolation in the same room. A man may have more self-control than a mouse, but primal instincts were strong no matter who was involved.

. . . . . . . . . . . . .

Sam sprinted down the stairs, emerging in the hallway and skidding around the corner before Landry and Teal'c, who'd opted for the slower elevator, even made it to the isolation floor. Sam had seen Mitchell and Daniel spar before, but in a testosterone-fueled matchup, Daniel was going to get the worst of it. There were incoherent yelling and grunts echoing down the hall as the two men fought it out. She made it to the isolation room first, the door was open and the airmen who had been posted to the usually quite floor were already inside trying to break up the fight. Unfortunately, neither airman could restrain their fighter individually and if they teamed up to restrain one, inevitably, the other used the opportunity to his advantage.

"Ma'am?" one asked as soon as she skidded into the room.

"Knock it off!" she ordered her teammates, not thinking and jumping into the fray. "Leave him alone!" She stood firm in front of Daniel, facing off against her fellow colonel.

Mitchell- squarely focused on the fight, looked right through Sam and threw the punch he was mid-swing on. He swung wide, giving Daniel the opportunity to duck, and Mitchell's fist connected with Sam's temple. The blow landed high on her as it had been aimed for Daniel's jaw.

Sam staggered, grunting in pain.

Both men froze.

"Carter…" Mitchell sputtered as she fell back, dazed.

Daniel screamed, enraged, and threw himself full force at Mitchell taking him down like the football player he never was in high school or college. He pinned Mitchell to the floor, one hand around his throat, the other raining a constant barrage of sloppy punches.

"Daniel, stop!" Sam yelled grabbing his fist with both hands before he could punch Mitchell again.

"You okay, Sam?" he asked her, not taking his glare off Mitchell.

As she expected, both men were bruised and battered, bloody noses, split lips, and torn shirts. The room had been torn apart as well, furniture knocked over, books and game pieces scattered across the floor, Daniel's glasses broken in the corner.

"I'm fine," Sam lied, blinking away the stars that clouded her vision.

"Let it go, Jackson. It was an accident," Mitchell panted. "Besides, Carter can handle herself."

"This is between you and me. Leave her out of it," Daniel snapped, rearing back to swing again shifting his weight to one side in an attempt to gain power.

"Stop!" Sam pleaded.

Mitchell took advantage of Daniel's distraction and pushed him over, rolling away. Daniel jumped to his feet and the two men eyed each other, at the ready.

"What are you two even fighting over?" Sam asked. "Daniel, are you sure you're okay?"

"I'm fine," he assured her, sparing a moment to flash a cheeky smile. "I can take 'em."

"Arrogant bastard," Mitchell spat at him.

"Jealous?" Daniel smirked.

"Of you? An overgrown nerd? Can you even see me without your glasses, four-eyes?"

"Twelve-year-old me is wounded," Daniel mocked him.

"Yeah, well grown up you ain't looking too good, either."

"You should see the other guy."

Mitchell snarled and lunged at Daniel in a more coordinated attach that Daniel had been capable of. Daniel managed to say on his feet, stumbling back until they hit the wall. His opponent pinned in a corner, Mitchell laid into him, taking advantage of Daniel's limited range of motion.

"Colonel Mitchell, stand down!" Landry barked the second he laid eyes on the pair.

Mitchell stopped and turned to his commanding officer. Daniel looked back and forth between the General and Mitchell, weighing his chances. Teal'c, who had arrived with Landry hadn't stopped at the threshold like the General had and strode authoritatively across the room.

"That would be unwise, Daniel Jackson," he warned, putting himself between the pair. "I do not wish to harm you, but I will prevent any further attempts to continue this ill-advised act of aggression." Teal'c stared Daniel down.

For his part, Daniel, keyed up on testosterone as he was, wisely accepted the much larger man's terms.

"Which one of you wants to explain what's going on here?" Landry asked. "Well?" he prompted when no one spoke up. "Colonel, I asked you a direct question and I expect an answer."

"I don't know, sir," Mitchell answered, standing stiffly at attention.

"I honestly can't remember," Daniel admitted, confirming Mitchell's story.

"You mean to tell me that you two have been brawling in here like a couple hooligans and you don't know why?" Landry demanded.

"No, sir," they mumbled like two pre-teens caught fighting behind the dumpsters after school.

"If I may, General," Dr. Bandler started. In all the commotion, no one had noticed he'd come down to see what was happening. "The mice didn't fight until I introduced the pheromones of a female to their cage."

"Carter didn't get here until after the fight started," Mitchell shook his head.

"We were talking about her, though," Daniel pointed out. "We were sitting around commiserating and then you said…." He paused as the memory fell into place. "I may have started the fight," he admitted reluctantly.

"You?" Landry was a shocked as everyone else in the room.

"I thought I was defending Sam," he explained to the floor.

"I don't need you to defend my honor," Sam frowned at him.

"I think we've more than proven that I'm not exactly in control of my faculties right now," he gestured around the demolished room.

"Alright," Landry cut to the chase. "I want you two separated. I want full isolation for both," he turned his attention to the airmen who had tried their best to do the impossible. "No contact male or female. We're lucky these two were relatively well matched or this could have ended much worse."

"You think we're well matched?" Daniel couldn't help but preen a little at the compliment. No one had said anything so kind about his fighting abilities. The nicest thing Jack had ever said while training him was that he'd survive long enough for someone with skill to find him.

"I'd say you held your own, which is more than I expected out of you."

"So, it's not so much that we're well matched as everyone is pleasantly surprised I didn't kill you," Mitchell gloated.

"Colonel, you got beaten up by Dr. Jackson, I wouldn't be so proud of myself if I were you," Landry shot at him.

"Hey!" both men protested at the dual insult.

"Separate them, now," Landry ordered, clearing his head. Usually, he wasn't one to join in on the banter of his subordinates. These damned spores must have been affecting him, too. "Anyone have any serious injuries?"

Mitchell and Daniel testing their joints and limbs. Everything seemed fully functional.

"Good, then you can clean yourselves up without exposing any more of my people to your…"

"Pheromones?" Daniel suggested.

"Musk?" Mitchell supplied.

"You room two. You room four," Landry kept to the point before he got drug back in. Why couldn't SG-1 be like every other team on base? Go out, do their job, come home. When was the last time an SG team, other than the drama-prone SG-1, brought the entire base to a standstill over some new bug, or rock, or seemingly innocent flower?

"Move!" he snapped when no one had. "Always you four," he mumbled to himself walking away. "No matter what happens you four are there standing in the middle." He punched the elevator button deciding to check on Carolyn. She needed to stay as far away from this as possible until further notice.


	13. Chapter 13

"Bravo-7," Daniel guessed.

"Miss," Mitchell's voice came over the radio. They had talked Dr. Lam into giving them short-range walkies, so they could at least talk to each other. At some point hours later, they had started up a game of Battleship that turned into a tournament.

"No way."

"It's a miss, Jackson. Delta-2."

Daniel frowned at his hand-drawn game board. "Hit," he admitted reluctantly. "Bravo-6." He knew Mitchell's cruiser had to be somewhere in the area.

"Hit."

"Ha!" Daniel marked his grid. "Found you, you bastard."

"Foxtrot-niner," Mitchell guessed.

"Seriously?" Daniel asked the isolation room, before speaking into the radio. "Did you hack the security camera or something? " He glared at the camera suspiciously.

"A hit, then?"

"Yes."

"It's your patrol boat isn't it?"

"I'd be impressed, except I'm mad at you," Daniel shot back. "Alpha-6."

"Hit," Mitchell allowed. "Hey, someone's here. I'll be right back."

"Sure."

Daniel put down the radio and examined his previous hand-drawn game boards, looking for any pattern in Mitchell's ship placements.

"Keeping busy?" Dr. Lam smirked at him from the doorway.

"It's something to do," he answered carefully. No one had been around to check on them for hours, and no one had dared enter the room. "Does this mean you have a cure?" he asked.

"Not yet, sorry."

"Well, don't think I'm complaining, because you are infinitely better company than Mitchell here," he wagged the radio in his hand. "But I'd like to get out of here eventually."

"We do have an idea. Now that the female mice are pregnant the pathogen is mutating again," Dr. Lam told him.

"I'm already uncomfortable with where this is going," Daniel sighed.

With an apologetic, yet mischievous grin, Dr. Lam held up a specimen container. "Do you want a magazine?"

. . . . . . . . . . . . .

Sam arrived at the biology lab hopeful, and a little sickened.

"Col. Carter. We're doing the final control test," Dr. Bandler greeted her as Dr. Lam handed him a syringe. "What we've got is…"

Sam put up her hand. "I don't want to know whose is whose. Frankly, I don't like that I know what is in there."

"It's just the mice."

"I have to draw the line somewhere. I have to work with these guys."

Dr. Lam shrugged. "Fair enough. We're working with…. Mouse A." She reached into a cage. "This is one of his females. We let nature take its course with the mice and once the female fell pregnant it effectively neutralized the pathogen."

"I have no intention of taking maternity leave over this," Sam said flatly.

"We think we have the next best thing," Dr. Bandler assured her. "This serum should have the same effect without anyone having to suffer the indignity of a baby shower. "

. . . . . . . . . . . . .

Mitchell looked up from the tower of cards he was building when the door to the isolation room opened. The last time it'd opened things got very personal very quickly and he wasn't looking forward to round two.

"How come you got sprung?" he demanded when Daniel walked in flanked by Dr. Lam and Sam.

"This isn't healthy for my self-esteem, but," Daniel put his arm around Sam. "No one is attracted to me anymore."

"He's just a big dork again," Sam confirmed elbowing her best guy friend in the ribs.

"Never thought you'd be excited to be ignored by the ladies, did ya, Jackson?"

"Enjoy it while you can. You're about to be nothing special yourself."

"What 'cha got, doc?" Mitchell turned his attention to Dr. Lam.

"Don't ask," Sam and Daniel said at the same time.

"Well, now I have to know."

"The flower you brought back with you was more of a fertility drug than an aphrodisiac," Dr. Lam said, preparing the injection site. "The only way to deactivate the spores is for the female to get pregnant. When the female's hormones change that signals the spores to deactivate and basically die off."

"You're injecting me with pregnant lady hormones." Mitchell's first instinct was to pull away, but it was too late, the needle already pierced the skin.

"Not exactly," Dr. Lam corrected him. "That is the concept. We had to match it up to you specifically and the proteins in your…"

"Sample," Daniel interrupted.

"You're injecting me with pregnant lady hormones and my own…"

"Sample," Daniel interrupted again.

"Sample," Mitchell agreed.

"It's more than that. Each strain was specific to the host…"Dr. Lam trailed off at Mitchell's strained expression and sighed. "Yes. Pregnant lady hormones and seamen."

"Sample," Mitchell and Daniel corrected her.

"Told you not to ask," Sam chided them.

"Are we done here? Cause I got an urge to go do something very manly to off-set what just happened to me." Mitchell rolled down his sleeve again. "Build a car, boxing, push-ups… something."

"We have to make sure the spores have been rendered inert before I can clear you to leave."

"How do we know when it's worked?"

"When you start striking out again," she told him.

. . . . . . . . . . . . .

48 hours later everything was back to what passed for normal at the SGC. With the host spores convinced they had done their job there were no negative side effects but general embarrassment for all those affected and Col. Mitchell's uncharacteristic inability to look most people in the eye.

"So, the one thing I don't get," Mitchell said as SG-1 gathered at their usual table in their favorite bar. "Is we were all there. How come Teal'c didn't end up with a harem?"

Daniel chewed on a buffalo wing thoughtfully. "And how did I end up with so many more groupies than Mitchell?"

"It's spread through touch," Sam explained. "Teal'c keeps to himself physically, Mitchell has regulations dictating his actions, and you're a big teddy bear who likes hug everyone."

"I do not," Daniel protested just as their usual server came by with a tray of drinks.

"You guys look like you've had a hard day," she said, putting out an assortment of glasses on the table- drinks they hadn't ordered yet.

"Thanks, Mel, you read my mind," Daniel said at the sight of drink delivery. After nearly a decade of frequenting the same bar, the entire staff knew SG-1 and their habits.

"What a refill on the fries?" Mel asked, leaning up against Daniel who put his arm around her. "Or should I just get the next round ready?"

"I want more wings," Daniel glanced around the table looking for the rest of the order.

"I vote cheese fries," Sam spoke up.

"I second that and go ahead and get the next round going, too," Mitchell chimed in.

"You got it." She turned and went to put in their order.

"You really can't keep your hands to yourself, can you?" Mitchell asked as soon as Mel was out of earshot. Sam snorted into her beer.

"What?" Daniel asked. All three of his teammates were staring at him.

"You were hugging her," Mitchell told him.

"Was not."

"You had your arm around her, Daniel," Sam confirmed.

"Did not."

"Indeed, you did, Daniel Jackson."

"Are you telling me I hug people so frequently I don't even realize I'm doing it?" Daniel asked.

"Not necessarily hug," Sam allowed. "But you do the arm around the shoulders thing."

"And the half elbow to the ribs/shoulder bump thing," Mitchell added.

"Hand on the back when you come up behind someone."

"The shoulder squeeze of encouragement."

"And the hugs," Sam concluded.

Daniel didn't have a comeback, witty or otherwise, so he passed around the drinks instead. Club soda and lime for Teal'c, car bomb with whiskey chaser for everyone else.

"Okay guys, bottom's up." Daniel took his shot glass of Bailey's and waited for Sam and Mitchell to catch up.

"I propose a toast," Mitchell said. "To surviving yet another day as us."

"Hear, hear," Daniel and Sam chorused, toasting.

"Jackson doesn't move," Mitchell ordered.

"What?" Daniel asked, freezing mid-toast.

Mitchell looked down at his right shoulder where Daniel's hand rested, a friendly and significant gesture. "Ya see? Shoulder squeeze of encouragement."

Daniel looked down at his own hand, completely unaware how it had gotten there. "I…." he trailed off, no excuses coming to mind.

Mitchell rolled his eyes and looked at Sam. "We're going to have to work on that."


End file.
